By J M F Casey
In Folkstone upon the rooftops there is an upper world harassed by seagulls. Their endless nagging gets under the skin, making one constantly irate, if not outright belligerent. It was up there that I built the funeral pyre.
As my skin was lashed by the salty winds, I took the mouldering teddy bear and placed it upon the pile of kindling. I felt exultant as the fire consumed the ancient stuffing, adding an acrid scent to the briny air. A hundred years of family history obliterated so easily, leaving just the harsh vapour blowing to nothing and the scornful dirge of the gulls.
J M F Casey is an artist and writer from the UK. He has exhibited in London, Ghent and Derbyshire and has had writing published online by The Educator, Misery Tourism and Nauseated Drive. He currently lives with a trainee mystic in the hills of Derbyshire, devoting himself to research, short fiction and piecing things back together.
The Birdseed 